Remembering Bill Lane

Bill Lane was born in 1951 and died December 30, 1951. He was a director and producer of theatre and radio drama, a dramaturg, a playwright, and a teacher. After his CBC career, he earned an MA in Social & Political Thought and a PhD in Theatre Studies from York University. Bill Lane was a life-long friend who was loved and admired by many.

Pandemic Journal 26/6/22 โ€” when โ€œdeath leaves us homesickโ€ย 

On mourning and melancholia. On the loss of friends and lovers. And the loss of womenโ€™s rights to abortion in the U.S. so courageously gained 50 years ago. Melancholia must give way to action. Change via feminist transformation cannot be counted on to remain. Stay engaged! The struggle continues!

Pandemic Journal 27/6/22 โ€” โ€œCome into my gardenโ€ or Asteya, stealing time

Experience life just as it isโ€ฆ Sweet June. Is she of Summer or of Spring,Of adolescence or of middle-age?A girl first marvelling at touch of loversOr else a woman growing ripely sage?Between the two she delicately hovers,Neither too rakish nor, as yet, mature.She's not a matron yet, not fully sure;Neither too sober nor elaborate;Not come… Continue reading Pandemic Journal 27/6/22 โ€” โ€œCome into my gardenโ€ or Asteya, stealing time

Pandemic Journal 12/2/22: The Bridge – what yoga means to me

Yoga means โ€œto yokeโ€, to join, to bridge. โ€œOnly connectโ€, wrote novelist E M Forester when I read his famous novel Howardโ€™s End in my first undergraduate English class in 1969. My professor said: Only connect. For me, now โ€จmore than fifty years later, โ€จyogaโ€™s connections expand into a rejuvenation โ€จof the body and the mind. Yoga means holding out for more. Not giving up or giving in. It means giving up. Giving in. Yoga means sensual pleasure โ€จand the erotic spring. It means contemplative disembodied reflection. Yoga means somewhere between these spacesโ€จof opposition -โ€จan ease in whatever emerges.

Pandemic Journal 11/1/21: a retiree remembers classrooms students hallways colleagues gardens mentors

Sheena and I (May Day, 2019) Two years after retirement she finds this five-year-old journal entry โ€”Sept 5, 2015: the serendipity of today Such a beautiful first class day. Two courses began - and I returned home to pass out in a deeply pleasurable nap of sheer exhaustion at how intense these initial encounters can… Continue reading Pandemic Journal 11/1/21: a retiree remembers classrooms students hallways colleagues gardens mentors